Well I Did Go To Theatre Camp
by Specter-Paulsen
Summary: Samantha and Donna go out for drinks and Samantha extracts information from Donna. Established Darvey, early in season 8.


**A/N: This started out light and fun and turned a little angsty, oops! **

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Harvey had had a long day, and he was more than ready to go home and kick back on the couch with a scotch and his favourite woman. So when the woman in question appeared in his office, bag in hand, he was more than happy to see her.

"You ready to go home?" he asked as she perched on the edge of his desk.

"I'm not going home with you tonight."

"What?" He was taken aback, his eyes wide as he studied her, looking for any sign she might be kidding.

"I'm going out with Samantha."

"You're _what_?" The shock was even more real this time, and he looked disgruntled as well as surprised. Donna grinned, enjoying taking him by surprise.

"Ooh jealous?" She teased. He raised an eyebrow.

"Well, you know what people are saying about her…"

Donna smirked. "And you know I went to theatre camp… are you worried?"

"Please. You'd never give up on this." He gestured toward himself and she grinned.

"That's what you think, pretty boy." She brushed her lips over his, a featherlight touch against his mouth, tasting him, testing him, before she stepped back, a soft smile gracing her features. "I'll see you tomorrow."

"Wait, you're not coming over after?"

"Oh my god, you really are worried."

"I'm not. I just…"

"You can't sleep without me, is that it?" she teased.

"You know what, Donna? Do whatever you want." He pouted and she laughed, stepping back in toward him, her hand landing on his chest, the warmth of her palm seeping through his shirt and into his skin.

"I'll call you later." She kissed him again, fingers sliding over his cheek, his jaw; trailing over his skin, stroking lovingly. When they parted, she turned to leave and he watched her hips swaying as she walked away.

"So, you and Harvey," Samantha said slowly, sipping her bourbon as they sat in a plush bar several blocks from the office.

"Yes," Donna replied warily.

"How long have you been…"

"Together?" Donna finished the sentence, already revealing more than she'd intended to. But this was a night out with the purpose of getting to know her new colleague, so she figured she may as well start with honesty.

"Are you? I have to say, I wasn't convinced you were. The rumours are sketchy at best."

"We are,' she confirmed with a half-shrug.

"For how long?"

"Since the merger happened."

"Robert's daughter's wedding."

Donna nodded slowly, hiding her surprise at how much Samantha knew. "Yes." She took a large gulp of her cocktail, the alcohol warming her chest as it worked its way into her stomach. She felt strangely uncomfortable with this line of questioning, and as the thought crossed her mind she almost scoffed at herself out loud. _I've been spending too much time with lawyers. _

"So why the secrecy?" Samantha's voice cut through her thoughts.

"We're not- its not secrecy. It's… professionalism."

"Is it?" Samantha sat back in her chair, folding one leg over the other. "There have been rumours about you for years and yet no one has questioned your professionalism. Why bother hiding now that they're true?"

"I guess you don't know about Malik." Donna laughed humorlessly.

"Who's Malik?"

"He's an asshole who tried to get to Harvey through me. He put me on the stand and tore apart everything I've ever achieved in my career. He all but said the words-" she stopped, taking another swig of her drink, the shame burning through her again, a feeling she thought she'd put behind her.

"He said you slept your way to COO," Samantha surmised and Donna was surprised by the care in her voice.

"He did."

"I hope you told him where to shove it."

"Harvey took care of it." Donna raised a shoulder nonchalantly, her insides warming from both the alcohol and the memory of Harvey standing up for her.

"You and he have… chemistry," Samantha stated. "But it's more than that too. You're like two sides of the same coin, or you're cut from the same cloth or any of those other metaphors. It's like you have your own language."

Donna tilted her head in affirmation. "We've known each other a long time."

"But you waited this long?" Her tone was hesitant, inquisitive, hinting at something Donna wasn't quite catching. The feeling was disconcerting, given how unusual it was and she couldn't tell if it was the alcohol or this enigmatic woman.

"For two people who have their own language, we spent a lot of years struggling to communicate." She gave her own enigmatic response, trying to get back on even footing.

"So you _never_?"

"No." The lie slipped out by second nature and she didn't bother to correct it once it had. That was a story for another time.

"Does he fuck like he works?" Samantha asked boldly and Donna choked on her drink, coughing as the liquid burned down her throat. "Oh, come on. You can't tell me you're a prude."

"Of course not. I just wasn't expecting that from you."

"Really? He fights hard and dirty on a case. You can't expect me not to wonder if he's like that in bed too."

"I don't think it's wise for me to discuss his sexual prowess with you. Because you also fight dirty, and you'll use it against him the next time you go toe-to-toe." She raised an eyebrow, daring Samantha to challenge her. The blonde woman laughed.

"So you really _can _do that."

"I'm hearing that a lot lately."

"Like I said when we first met, I've heard a lot about you. The secretary turned COO who is practically omniscient. I didn't believe it at first, but now…"

"What can I say? We all have our skill set."

Oh their third or fourth drink, Donna decided to turn the tables.

"Don't think I haven't noticed that we've been talking about me all night."

"Oh I know you've noticed. But we'll get to me in good time. I still have questions for you."

"Go on…"

"You and Rachel were close?"

"We are, yes," Donna replied, confirming and correcting at the same time. Samantha's head bobbed once, acknowledging her mistake.

"And her husband. You must have had quite the soft spot for him." This time it was clear what Samantha was getting at and Donna's hackles rose slightly.

"I'm not going to talk about Mike with you, Samantha."

"You have before."

"I have. But I'm not going to now."

"You mind if I ask why not?"

"Because he— they —are a sensitive subject for me. And now is not the time for that."

"Okay."

"Instead, why don't you tell me about you and Robert."

"Well _that _is a long story."

"Don't worry, I've got time."

She fumbled with her her keys as she stood outside her apartment, drunker than she'd intended to be, but Samantha drank _hard _and attempting to match her had been a mistake. As she struggled with her keys, she dropped her bag.

"Shoot." She bent to pick it up, losing balance in her heels and tumbling to the floor. She rolled her eyes at herself but couldn't help the laugh that bubbled out of her. "Idiot," she said out loud. She wrangled her stilettos off and stumbled back onto her feet, just as her door swung open. She was met with Harvey's smirk as he stood in the doorway; shirtless, handsome and so at home in her apartment.

"Good night?" he asked, holding out a hand to steady her as she wobbled inside. He scooped her bag and shoes off the floor, his hand on the small of her back as she made her way to the couch, dropping unceremoniously onto it, the fabric of her dress pulled taut across her thighs as it rode up, exposing a significant amount of creamy flesh.

"You're here," she said, narrowing her eyes at him.

He wasn't sure if she was angry or just trying to focus her gaze on him. "Yes."

"Why?"

"You don't want me here?"

"We agreed that I'd see you tomorrow."

"I wanted to see if you came home alone." His voice was light, teasing, but even in her inebriated state, she saw through him.

"You thought I wouldn't?"

"You did go to theatre camp."

"Bullshit." Her eyes were hard and he was no longer unclear about her feelings. She was definitely mad. "This isn't about Samantha."

"No. It isn't."

"You think I'd do that to you?"

"I don't know."

"Harvey." His name was a gasp, a plea and a curse all in one.

"You've had one foot out the door all along." A muscle was working in his jaw, a sure sign that he was suppressing emotion and suddenly she'd never felt more sober in her life, the effects of the alcohol disappearing as she realised he was completely serious.

"How can you say that to me?" she asked, as a feeling not unlike pain ripped through her chest. He didn't trust her. After everything they'd been through, _now _he didn't trust her.

"It's been fourteen years, Donna. But you won't commit."

"How have I not committed? I gave you my key. I keep clothes at your place. I wake up with you almost every morning. What about that isn't a commitment?"

"You're holding back. Like you always have."

"Like _I _always have?" She shifted on the couch, a leg hooking underneath her as her skirt moved even further up her thighs. Harvey's eyes flicked to the gap between her legs, a hint of black lace drawing his eye. He shifted almost imperceptibly, adjusting his pants. "Are you _fucking _kidding me, Harvey?" She stood up, sliding her dress back into place. "We're having a serious conversation and you're thinking about sex?"

"I'm not—"

"Forget it. Just go home." She pushed past him, heading for her bedroom. He grabbed for her arm, forcing her around to look at him. Her eyes flashed angrily and she struggled against his hold. "Let me go, Harvey."

"No. We're going to have this discussion and we're going to have it now."

"Why?" She was challenging him and he knew it. He clenched his jaw again, watching her for a moment, studying her face before looking away and pressing his lips together, suppressing something she didn't want to identify. "Why, Harvey?"

"Because you're not happy and it's killing me."

All the fight drained out of her at his words and her face fell, her eyes searching his, wide and fearful as she saw something in him she wasn't expecting.

"You think I'm not happy?" Her voice was nothing but a whisper, her head tilted to the left in that way she did when she was trying not to cry and Harvey's grip loosened, no longer holding her in place.

"I really don't know," he said in a voice equally as soft. "I can't get a read on you these days."

"You could always just ask me."

"I was afraid to hear the answer." His voice cracked as he spoke the words and Donna felt her stomach clench in anguish.

"Harvey," she whispered, her eyes glistening with unshed tears, meeting his similarly shining eyes. Her hands moved to his chest, sliding up to his neck and holding his face.

"You're _everything _to me." His voice wavered as he spoke, but his gaze held firm, fixed on hers. "You don't know how easily you could break me."

"I never want to do that."

"You're not in this like I am."

"How can you say that?" The look on her face was devastating and he felt a rush of anger at himself for putting it there. "I love you."

"I know that."

"Then what are you saying, Harvey?"

"I just…" he sighed heavily, looking at the floor. "Forget it. I don't even know."

"No. No, I'm not going to forget it." She took his hand, pulling him to the couch. "We're going to talk about this." She hooked her leg underneath her again, throwing a blanket over her lap to prevent distraction. Harvey leaned forward. His elbows resting on his knees, unable or unwilling to look at her. "Talk to me, Harvey." Her voice was soft, a slight tremor betraying the strong exterior she was trying to put out. He was silent for a long time, and she sat, chewing on her bottom lip, waiting him out. Eventually he looked at her, his expression pained, his eyes begging her for a way out. She shook her head wordlessly to tell him she wasn't going to give up. He pressed his lips together in frustrated anguish and then nodded once.

"Okay. I guess I feel like we've always had this one sided relationship. Sometimes the balance shifts and the power changes, but for the most part, you have the upper hand here. And I love you too much. I can't ever let you go."

"You don't need to let me go. I'm not going anywhere, Harvey. If thirteen years hasn't shown you that, I don't know what I can do."

"That was different."

"How? You think I'd have stayed with you for _thirteen years_ if I didn't love you? I've _always_ loved you. I've put up with your shit for all that time and loved you anyway."

"But you're not happy."

"How can you think that?" Harvey looked at the floor again and she sighed. "By now I should be used to your inability to communicate, but it still frustrates me, Harvey. I know you think I'm a mind reader, but you have to tell me what you're thinking. I can't keep trying to guess."

"This is hard for me!" he exclaimed.

"I know it is! But you have to talk to me. Tell me what's going on in your head. Why don't you think I'm happy?"

"It sounds stupid when I say it out loud."

"It won't." She put her hand on his leg, squeezing his thigh. "Whatever you're thinking is valid. But I need to hear it so I can tell you why you're wrong." She tilted her head, amusement playing at her lips.

He let out a short chuckle. "You do like to tell me I'm wrong."

"Only when it's necessary." She moved her hand to the back of his neck, massaging lightly, comfortingly.

"We used to do fifteen hour days twelve feet from one another. And we don't anymore. And I miss you. And you didn't want to come home with me tonight and I… I guess I thought maybe you missed me too and would want to spend your nights with me." He was still looking at the floor as he spoke and she help back a chuckle when she realised that he was actually right for once - it did sound stupid. But she would never invalidate his feelings that way.

"Harvey."

The tone of her voice forced his eyes back to hers and he gazed at her nervously.

"I love being COO. I wouldn't trade it for anything. But that doesn't mean I don't miss sitting outside your office all day. I _do _miss that proximity. I _do _miss you during the day. But I need to have a life too. Rachel is gone. I need a friend. And I'm getting to know Samantha better so that maybe she can fill that void in my life. But it doesn't diminish how I feel about you. I just need someone that I can talk to when you're driving me crazy." She took both of his hands in hers. "I love you, Harvey, and I _am _happy. I'm happier than I've ever been. I just miss my friend."

"I feel like I'm going insane. Considering you're all I can think about, and I want to to be with you every minute, maybe I am."

"You're not going insane." She smiled at him, marvelling at how emotionally stunted he still was. "That's what being in love _is_. You think I don't want to be with you every minute? I wake up next to you in the morning and want to stay there with you forever. You walk into my office and I never want you to leave. But it's a balancing act." She cocked her head at him. "You've never felt like this before?"

"No!" He was almost indignant, seemingly offended at the idea that he might have ever been in love with anyone else and she felt a warmth spread through her.

"God, I love you." She felt sappy and emotional at his revelation. Maybe it was the copious amount of alcohol still in her system, or maybe it was just the overwhelming love she felt love for this man, but as she shifted to bury her face in the crook of his neck, she burst into tears.

"Donna?" He was confused, his arms winding around her instantly, hands rubbing her back, stroking her hair, and his lips pressing against her temple.

"I'm okay," she choked out. "Just a little overwhelmed."

"Did I say something wrong?"

"No." She sat up to look at him, her hands cupping his face. "You said everything just right."

The following morning Donna woke with a hangover far milder than she'd expected. She rolled over to see Harvey still sleeping soundly beside her; his hair sticking up in tufts, his face serene and his breath escaping in little puffs as his chest rose and fell. She felt a wave of affection - no, something far more potent - as she watched him sleep. Last night had brought them closer. It had forced them to confront some truths, to be completely honest with one another, and they were stronger for it. She knew she should let him sleep; he was tired and emotional experiences like the previous night wore him out further. But she couldn't stop herself from reaching out to trace his lips with her thumb, her palm resting against his jaw. His eyelids flickered and his mouth curved into a smile as he woke.

"Morning," she whispered.

"Hi."

His sleepy eyes focused on her, and she felt her heart thump in her chest as she looked at him. She'd never understand how he could have doubted her feelings for him. But it didn't matter now.

"Sorry I woke you."

"I don't mind." He turned his face into her hand, pressing his lips to her palm. "How's your hangover?"

"Not so bad."

"Good." He kissed her palm again and then turned his face back to her. "So, are you going to let me in on what you and Samantha talked about last night?"

"Nope." She grinned.

"C'mon, really? You're not going to share?"

"No, I'm not. You don't need to know everything, Harvey."

"Okay, but did she tell you about her and Robert?"

"Harvey."

"You know, how they…"

"I'm not falling for that. You don't know anything about them. And you're not going to get anything from me. Just like _she _didn't get anything from me about _you."_

"You talked about me?"

"No, I didn't."

"You didn't?"

"No!" She wound a hand around the back of his neck, her thumb stroking lightly at the skin under his ear. "She asked, but I didn't tell. Some things are sacred."

"Like my sexual prowess?"

"Yes, like that." She ran a hand over his bare chest, wriggling closer to him and throwing her leg over his hip. "But I'm more than happy to talk about your sexual prowess with you right now."

"Well, it is sacred, after all."

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**All done. Thoughts? **


End file.
